Crossover Collection
by Cathryn
Summary: Does what it says on the tin. I have a tendency to write random crossover snippets, and I've got enough Les Mis now to throw them up here. Includes Supernatural, Doctor Who, and Good Omens thus far; I may or may not write more later.
1. Supernatural

This should be readable regardless of whether you follow _Supernatural_. All you really need to know is that, in _Supernatural_ terms, a hunter is a person who specifically hunts evil supernatural things. Mary is the mother of the two main characters; we learned in season four that, long before they were born (but after this snippet takes place), she made a choice that would ultimately play a role in helping to bring about the Apocalypse.

*

Local legend held, in a quiet, low-key sort of way, that a part of the Seine was haunted by a policeman who'd drowned there well over a century ago.

The policeman's legend amongst hunters was much greater, known worldwide, because this particular spirit wasn't a typical ghost at all. Spirits who lasted that long became scattered, lost who they were, turned violent and angry and forgot their own names. This ghost, on the other hand, was calm, coherent, violent only when preventing a would-be crime in progress, and gave his name as Inspector Javert.

It was also worth noting that his death had been the last to occur at that part of the Seine.

In 1969, when the Campbells and their teenage daughter took a vacation in Paris, there hadn't been a reliable sighting of Javert in years. That didn't worry Mary much - a reliable sighting, in this instance, was a sighting by a hunter, and they didn't seek him out often. Why would they? He didn't cause any harm, and French hunters turned to more efficient sources of information first. (And, of course, no hunter would be caught dead _sightseeing_ at a haunted area.) But Mary didn't care about any of that. She was, at that age, already tired of the endless same patterns of the hunter's life, and she wanted to see something different. So, first chance she got, she snuck out of the hotel room and went down to the river.

She had only been there a few minutes when the temperature made a sharp drop; Mary shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around herself, and turned.

"It's late, Mademoiselle," Javert said. Mary knew some French, from classes, but it didn't seem to matter at that moment; the words bypassed her ears, untangling in her brain, and later she would never be able to figure out if she had heard English or understood French.

"Yes, Inspector." Entrenched hunter's training sent Mary's hand into her pocket, where she always had a vial of salt. She knew she wouldn't need it, but she wrapped her fingers around it anyway without even thinking about it.

Javert glanced toward her pocket, then turned and looked down the street the way she had come.

"Someone has followed you."

"I know how not to be followed," Mary said, but her heart rate spiked and she straightened up, scanning the area.

"There," Javert said softly, gesturing with his chin and drawing his cudgel out from the folds of his jacket. Mary let go of the salt and slipped her hand under her jacket instead, drawing a knife. Javert raised an eyebrow at the blade; Mary raised hers right back, challenging, and Javert looked back toward the shadow with a faint smile.

For a long, tense moment, nothing happened at all. Both of them, almost simultaneously, adjusted their grips on their weapons in readiness.

Then the shadow made an irritated sound.

Mary relaxed with a long sigh. "Dad?"

Samuel Campbell stepped out of the shadow, hands held open and empty in front of him.

"It's all right, Inspector." With the initial flash of relief past, Mary could feel her face getting hot. She should have known that she'd gotten past her parents and out of the hotel way too easily. She should have expected her father to be following. "He's my father." She put her knife away, and Javert followed suit with his cudgel.

"You're not good enough to sneak past me yet, Mary." His tone was neutral in deference to the fact that they weren't alone, but Mary could still hear how much trouble she was in. "I apologize for my daughter's disturbing you, Inspector. She's got the knowhow, but she hasn't picked up the common sense about when to use it yet."

"She has to learn somehow." Javert turned to Mary and studied her, cool and assessing. "Be mindful, Mary," he said after a moment, looking into her eyes with a stare that pinned her to the spot. "_Think very carefully about the choices you make._"

Then he was gone.


	2. Doctor Who 1

Takes place directly after the _Doctor Who_ season four finale.

*

The Doctor leaves Chiswick, spinning the TARDIS blindly through time and letting it land where it will.

"Where it will" turns out to be Paris, 1817. The Doctor wanders through the streets, watching without seeing as people flow around and past him. His attention is elsewhere, several elsewheres - at least, it is until something small careens into his legs. He blinks, snapped into his current present, and finds himself looking down into a pair of wide blue eyes. He smiles, crouching down to their owner's level.

"Hello."

The little girl, not at all perturbed to find herself at the center of a stranger's attention, smiles back joyously. She's very small, two years at most, and her clothes are too clean and elegant, her face too round and well-fed, to belong to an abandoned child.

"What are you doing here, then? Shopping by yourself?" the Doctor asks, musing to himself more than he's addressing her. The answer comes a second later in the form of a woman's voice calling out,

"Cosette!"

The Doctor looks up at a woman winding her way through the crowd toward them.

"Oh, thank you, Monsieur," she says, breathless, giving him a smile that shows perfect teeth as she reaches down to take Cosette's hand. "I didn't know she could go so fast, it seems like just yesterday she learned how to walk and now she's running all over!" She's still smiling as she talks, and the look she gives her daughter is one of pride rather than vexation. The Doctor straightens up, saying,

"Can't take your eyes off them for a second."

"I don't know how I'll get any shopping done, then," she laughs. The Doctor chuckles with her; Cosette watches the adults for a few seconds, then joins in with delighted peals of laughter. The Doctor grins down at her, and she reaches out with her free hand and grabs a fold of his coat.

"Oh, she likes you," says the mother. "But we can't keep the nice man to play, Cosette, we must be getting home. Papa has a surprise for Mama tomorrow, and she needs her sleep."

"Ah. You heard your mother," the Doctor says. "Maybe next time, Cosette."

The mother picks her daughter up, smiling and thanking the Doctor again. He smiles back and watches them go.

"A surprise," he says aloud. "Isn't that nice."

No one answers. The Doctor's smile fades, and he turns and starts making his way back to the TARDIS.


	3. Doctor Who 2

This drabble (as in one hundred words precisely; I'm old-fashioned that way) will make no sense unless you've seen the Doctor Who season four episode, "Turn Left." For the curious, I'll add an explanation below.

*

Marius draws breath to tell of the Jondrettes, and falters. The police inspector is looking at him strangely. No . . . _past_ him. At the air just behind his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asks instead. The man's sharp gaze snaps back to his.

"Nothing. Go on, talk."

Marius stares, and finds himself stepping back toward the door. He will never be able to explain why.

"Never mind," he says. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

The inspector's reply, heavy with a peculiar emphasis that makes Marius shudder, follows him outside.

_"Young man, there is something on your back."_

*

In "Turn Left," the Alien of the Week is called a Time Beetle. Time Beetles latch on to their victims' backs and take them back to a point in their lives where they made a major, life-altering decision, forcing them to change that decision. They then feed on the lost time that is created by the change in the timeline. (In other words: the fact that Marius's decision is highly OOC is pretty much the entire point.) Some people can catch glimpses of the Beetles. Javert seemed the obvious candidate for that.


	4. Good Omens

The premise for this one was suggested by Marianne, who pointed out the bit in the book about Crowley sleeping through the nineteenth century, and getting up just once to use the bathroom. Sadly, I don't have my copy on hand, so can't offer an exact quote.

*

In the end, Robespierre got completely out of hand.

After Crowley finished dealing with _that_, he decided a nap was in order. Humanity scared the he - the heaven right out of him sometimes, it really did.

**********

Above the Corinthe was a small attic. Curiously enough, for the entirety of the nineteenth century, not a single human being noticed it was there. It was occupied for that span of time, too - except for about half an hour or so in 1832.

The interesting thing about adopting human habits like sleeping and eating and so on is that sometimes you didn't get to pick and choose. If a demon slept long enough, his body would, without consulting him, decide that it had a bladder, and that said bladder needed emptying, and there was little the demon could do except comply. So, in 1832, Crowley woke to answer Nature's misplaced siren song.

As he did so, it occurred to him that there was some kind of ruckus going on. This was nothing unusual; Paris was, in Crowley's experience, a ruckus-prone sort of city. But this, it seemed to him, was a very specific-sounding ruckus. Once he noticed that, of course, it was all over - it pushed him just far enough into wakefulness that there was no way he was going to get back to sleep until things quieted down. Resigned, he shuffled downstairs.

It didn't surprise him overmuch to find the place mostly full of students. Nothing much good ever came of putting ideas in young people's heads, which was why Crowley was such a fan of education. As long as it was properly administered, at least. He looked around for a moment, trying to decide which of them was least likely to try to kill him. He could keep himself shielded from their notice, but once he drew someone's attention he couldn't necessarily control how they responded to him. Being on the wrong end of a gun in a twitchy student's hands was just a bad idea, especially when that student didn't know him from - well. Anyone.

At last, though, he spotted a likely candidate fast asleep at a table, bottle of absinthe next to his head. A boy after Crowley's own heart, if he'd had one. He took a seat and gave the boy a nudge.

"What is going on? Is this a revolution? Didn't you lot just have one of these?"

The boy blinked at him, going through the process of waking at a Crowley-assisted accelerated speed, then took a breath.

All demons have a sixth sense for tedium. Tedium is a very important part of Hell. And for Crowley, there was nothing more tedious than a speech. The longer they went, the more he wondered if he'd been pulled back down to Hell without anyone mentioning it. Alarm bells clanged in his head and he glared at the boy, giving him the full force of his demon eyes.

"Ten words or less," he hissed. The boy pulled up short, blinked some more, then asked,

"Has the fighting started yet?"

Crowley sighed and gestured toward the bottle. "Are you going to finish that?"


End file.
